


Training Day

by Sholio



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Sparring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-11
Updated: 2017-02-11
Packaged: 2018-09-23 10:33:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9652067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sholio/pseuds/Sholio
Summary: Newly promoted Chief Thompson wants Peggy to show the other agents some of the same moves she used on him. Set shortly after the end of season one.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ambiguously](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ambiguously/gifts).



> Thank you to sheron for your helpful suggestions to improve the story, and for suggesting the basic plot idea in the first place!

Surely Peggy could not have heard what she thought she'd just heard. Every time she started thinking she and Jack Thompson were on the same page about something, it seemed that reality smacked her in the face. "You think I need field training."

"No, Peggy, not _you."_ Jack grinned, a quick flash of his boyish smile. It used to make her prickle with irritation, that smile, because she only ever saw it when he was playing his Just One of the Boys! persona around the office. These days, though it still came out when he was sucking up to City Hall or the D.C. bigwigs, in general the smile came out less around the office, and was more genuine when it did. "No, I want you to train the men."

"Oh," she said, surprised. "Oh, they're ... not going to like that, are they?" She had a good deal more respect around the office than before the Stark case, and fewer requests from other agents to do their filing for them, but it was still an uphill, daily battle.

"No," Jack said, grinning wider. "No, they are not."

There were times when Jack seemed to take an almost proprietary pride in her accomplishments, as if he thought he'd discovered her. Irritating as it was, she couldn't resist a tiny glow that he _did_ give her field assignments, he _did_ ask her opinions on work matters. Being confident in herself was all well and good, but it _was_ nice to be recognized.

Still, she couldn't let him get away with too much. In the weeks since Jack had taken over the office, she and Daniel seemed to have developed an informal and unspoken pact to take the wind out of their new boss's sails as necessary, to make sure his head didn't swell up enough that he wouldn't be able to get it through his office door.

"And will you need training as well, Chief Thompson?" she inquired. "I seem to recall your self-defense technique needs some work."

This made his grin falter somewhat. "You're just looking for an excuse to kick my ass in front of an entire room full of SSR agents."

"It's more that I feel I would be remiss in my training duties if I didn't show you the very simple way to block against the throw I already demonstrated for you not too long ago."

"Oh, demonstrating a throw, is that what you were doing?"

"And it would set a good example for the men," she pointed out.

"I -- no -- aargh. All _right._ But," he added, to her triumphant smirk, "no punching in the face."

 

***

 

The first training session started out about like she'd expected. Jack had picked out about a dozen agents who were, according to him, more in need of training than the rest of them. They assembled early on a Saturday in a boxing gym that belonged to some friend-of-a-friend of Jack's. There were a lot of smirks and some murmured jokes at the back of the group, which Peggy managed to ignore. She was also surprised to see Daniel file in at the back, and gave Jack a look, to which he returned a shrug. "I didn't order him to show up," he murmured, barely moving his lips. "I guess he was curious."

Well, it was what it was. She demonstrated a throw on Jack, going through it slowly, and was privately pleased that after a moment's tension, he relaxed into it, trusting her not to slam him into the floor _too_ hard. In fairness, then, she went easy on him. (She'd had an entirely different plan in mind if he hadn't played along.) He accepted her hand up with easy grace.

"Okay, ladies," Jack called, "whoever wants a go, c'mon up."

So the first smirking agent swaggered up to her, and Peggy threw _him_ hard enough to produce a tremendous thump that sent a ripple of winces through her audience. The second guy was a little more cautious. She threw him too, and while the two of them slowly and painfully peeled themselves off the floor, noticed that she now had a much wider circle of space around her. Daniel was grinning, and Jack had a look of profound satisfaction on his face.

Peggy felt a moment's nostalgia for the SOE self-defense instructor who had opened her first lesson by doing to her exactly what she'd just done to these men, and for similar reasons, too. She'd walked in thinking that a childhood of wrestling with her older brother had prepared her for combat. He'd disabused her of that notion in a hurry, leaving both her body and her pride bruised, and she had no doubt that he'd saved her life more than once.

She had forgotten how much effort it was; she was already feeling the strain in her shoulders and back. She really needed to practice these moves more. It wouldn't set a good example if she threw her back out while demonstrating a throw on a man half again as big as she was. However, she kept her expression calm as she looked out, unsmiling, on the now somewhat warier-looking agents. 

"If any of you should wish to learn to apply the techniques you've watched me apply to these men, I'll need a volunteer."

There was a brief hush and some nervous murmuring before Daniel said, his voice clear and loud, "I will."

Peggy hoped she'd managed not to let the flicker of dismay show on her face. Of everyone in the room, Daniel was the one she didn't want to use as her test case. It wasn't that she thought he couldn't -- it was only that ... well ... she didn't know how to allow for his injury in a way that wouldn't either bruise his pride or seriously hurt him. And she hadn't wanted to start out by demonstrating the technique on someone she genuinely wasn't sure how to handle as an opponent.

But she didn't have a choice; he was already making his way through the other agents, who fell aside to let him past, and as he limped up to her, she realized that he had as much to prove as she did. A few smirks had crept back onto the faces of the watching agents. Jack merely looked speculative.

"Can you stand without that?" she asked quietly, nodding to the crutch.

"I can, for a little while, but ..." His smile was self-deprecating. "If this is for actual fieldwork, there's no way I'm gonna be in a position where I'd need to use this and not have the crutch with me."

He was right, and it pricked a dart in her self-confidence: she should have thought of that herself, rather than having a student point it out to her. But then she thought of that long-ago SOE instructor. He had probably never taught a woman before, but when she'd walked into the room, he'd thrown her to the ground exactly as he would have done with any other over-confident student. If he'd worried about hurting her -- and he must have -- then he'd never shown it in word or deed.

As a teacher, she could do no less for Daniel.

"All right," she said. "I'll start by throwing you. I'm going to do it slowly so you can see what I'm doing. When you fall -- and I hope all of you are listening," she added, raising her voice, "because taking a fall properly is one of the most important skills you can have in a fight, and something I've seen no evidence that _any_ of you know how to do -- you'll need to relax and roll; don't stiffen up."

Daniel nodded. "I know how to take a fall," he said. There was no trace of amusement in his face now; he looked serious and intense, watching her every move.

"Hold out your hand as if you were holding a gun on me." He obliged. "Now I'm going to knock your gun up with the flat of my palm -- grasp your wrist with my other hand --" She was going through the motions slowly as she spoke them out. "See how I'm shifting my weight so it's all on my leading leg -- and now --"

She threw him. He was right, he did know how to fall, and he even had the presence of mind to swing the crutch out of the way, sweeping it wide to avoid getting tangled up with it. Jack had to hop back a step to keep from being whacked in the shins.

Peggy reached a hand down and helped Daniel to his feet as she had Jack. He didn't seem to be hurt, though some of his hair had come ungelled and was flopping down on his forehead. "Now you'll do the same to me. You saw what I just did --" She paused in the act of holding out her fake "gun" hand, realizing there was a problem. Bollocks. "Except you've only one hand to do it with. You'll have to adapt the technique."

"I've got a better idea. Can I show you?"

"Certainly." Peggy was aware the watching agents were starting to get a little restless; they had the look of men watching an amusing show that was starting to wear a bit thin. Jack, however, was still wearing the same intrigued look as he leaned against the wall with his arms folded and shirtsleeves rolled up. And he hadn't called the whole thing off.

So Peggy held out her hand on a fake gun's grip. Daniel seized her wrist, faster than she was expecting, and then her feet went out from under her, and as she went down and automatically went loose, she thought, _I wasn't watching the crutch!_ He'd tripped her while she was distracted.

She landed, rolled, and sprang to her feet out of his reach, partly because it was an ingrained reaction in a fight, but also because she wasn't entirely sure what he was going to do next. However, he was just standing there grinning triumphantly. The grin faltered almost immediately. "Peggy, I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"No, I'm fine. I believe you've just taught me something." She smiled back at him as she stretched out her aching arms and resisted the urge to rub the elbow that she'd banged when she fell. Jack now was wearing an "awww, my ducklings are growing up and learning to swim" look which meant she _definitely_ was going to have to mop the gym floor with him at some point today. However, first of all, there were a room full of restless and overly full of themselves agents who needed to learn the same lesson she'd just learned, except perhaps with more bruising.

"You and you." She didn't ask for volunteers this time, pointing to two of the more egregiously smirking offenders instead. "You'll pair off with Daniel, and _you_ with me." The one she'd assigned to Daniel looked startled; he clearly hadn't expected that. "Agent -- Sterling, is it? You just watched me demonstrate a throw, slow and easy, so you're going to do it to me, if you can get past my guard, for I will be on the defensive. And -- you --" She couldn't remember the other one's name. "You are to throw Daniel, unless he gets to you first. Go!"

Sterling made a clumsy attempt to grab her wrist, and she almost casually threw him, putting an extra twist on it so he got a few well-deserved bruises. There was a simultaneous thud, equally loud, from Daniel's direction. Peggy glanced over to make sure it wasn't Daniel getting thrown. It wasn't.

To hammer the point home, she planted her shoe on Sterling's neck. He made a startled, choking noise.

"This isn't a game," Peggy said loudly. "You aren't here to play. In an real fight, you'll have seconds, if that, to read your opponent's moves and plan accordingly. You are all supposed to be trained agents, and you just watched me demonstrate and explain a basic enough move that all of you should have some passing familiarity with it. How many of you are confident you can perform it now? Show of hands."

There were some nervous twitches of hands among the agents who hadn't been thrown yet, but no one was actually stupid enough to raise his hand all the way. The only exception was Daniel, whose hand went up immediately. Peggy narrowed her eyes at him. He just looked cheerful. Throwing the agent who was now crawling painfully away from him seemed to have put him in a very good mood.

"You and you." She picked two more. "You're with Daniel, you're with me."

By the time everyone had been thrown at least once, they were starting to get more alert and pay attention. By the time she had them pairing off with each other, they were able to do the move adequately, if clumsily, and she was able to step back and do more guiding and correcting than actual demonstrating, which was good, since by that point her arms felt like they were going to fall off and she was pretty sure she _had_ actually strained something in her back.

"And that's a wrap," Jack called, and Peggy looked up, startled, wiping sweaty hair out of her eyes. She was surprised to find that, by the clock on the wall, they'd been at it for over an hour. "Nice work; let's call it a day."

Daniel picked himself up off the floor, where Agent Sterling had actually managed to lay him out (though Sterling had been taken down a second later by the swipe of Daniel's crutch from flat on his back). "Wait a minute, Jack. Don't you still need to show us what _you've_ learned?"

"Hey, I took the first turn," Jack protested.

"And haven't taken a turn since." Peggy stretched her aching back and thought wistfully of the hot bath in which she planned to spend the afternoon before putting her game face on and holding out her hand invitingly. "As many times as you've watched it now, this should be easy for you. Go ahead, throw me."

"This feels like a trap," Jack said, approaching her warily.

"That's because it is." Daniel leaned against an unused boxing ring and wiped his forehead with his sleeve.

Jack was a faster learner than Peggy had anticipated. He almost got past her guard on the first try. She threw him hard, but he was back on his feet an instant later. She'd been prepared to let him have a throw after the first couple of tries -- her students also needed to get a feel for fast balance recovery after they'd successfully thrown someone, so she needed to let him have that once -- but as it turned out, it was all she could do to block him a second time. On the third try, though bruised and breathing hard, he actually did get past her guard and take her down, although she hooked him with a foot as she went down and knocked him down too ... balance practice be damned. Then she just sprawled on the floor, exhausted. That had taken the last bit of her strength, from the feel of things.

She really did need to start working out more.

"Okay then!" Daniel's voice sounded amused. Peggy blinked and looked up; he was standing over them, holding a hand out to whoever wanted it, which she accepted before she could get so comfortable lying on the floor that she'd never want to move again. "Before you two end up in one of those convenient boxing rings, how about we go enjoy the rest of our Saturday."

"You two remember you work for me, right?" Jack groaned, still flat on his back. Daniel offered him a hand up, while Peggy got her balance and waited out a head rush. 

Around them, the rest of the agents were trickling out, rubbing their bruises and straightening their sleeves. Most of them offered Peggy a nod or even a handshake on their way out. Tired, bruised, and aching as she was, she also felt buoyant, her heart light.

Winning respect in the office was an uphill battle, but she didn't need to do something spectacular every time. Not every victory had to be on the order of defeating Leviathan, saving New York, and clearing Howard Stark's name. Small victories were worthwhile ones, too. Maybe most of the agents she'd worked with today wouldn't remember this, or maybe they'd convince themselves that they were just having an off day when they allowed a girl to knock them down. But _some_ of them would nod at her in the bullpen, one agent to another. Some of them wouldn't give her a skeptical look when she went around a building one way in pursuit of a suspect and sent them the other way. Some of them would trust her at their back in a way they hadn't been willing to do before.

Anytime she believed it wasn't possible, all she had to do was look at Jack -- who was currently teasing Daniel (who didn't seem to be appreciating it) as Jack tossed him a towel. Everything to do with Jack was definitely a one-step-forward, one-step-back process (and sometimes it felt like three or four steps back), but there _was_ forward progress. If she would've written off anyone in the office as a lost cause a few months ago, it would've been Jack Thompson -- and then there was Belarus and everything that came after, and now here he was, trusting her to train his agents. There were still times when she wanted to smack the smirk off his face, but ...

But things were getting better.

"Ask her," Jack was saying, twirling a towel and smacking Daniel in the arm with it.

"Ow! What, are you twelve?"

"Fine, I'll do it. Hey, Marge," Jack called. "Some of us are gonna catch a bite of breakfast. You want to come?" 

The invitation nestled in her heart, glowing and warm. "I'm coming," she said, and hurried to join them. The hot bath could wait.

"If eating with this guy won't put you off your appetite," Daniel said, giving her a smile. She hadn't seen much of him, not one-on-one, since the declined drink invitation a few weeks ago. She kept wanting to smooth it over, then wondering if there was anything to smooth over. She still couldn't tell.

"Your boss, you mean," Jack said.

"Not if my transfer to L.A. goes through, you won't be."

She kept forgetting about that. It was going to be strange, having him all the way across the country.

But things kept changing. Life went on. People cycled in and out of it. And somehow, though the holes in her heart left raw scars, they did still heal.

There were still setbacks, but there were more days like this now, full of useful work done with people who listened to her, and far fewer days like the ones just after the war. Right now, tired and aching and warm with the satisfaction of a job well done, she was feeling pretty good about her life.

"Jack's buying breakfast," she suggested. "After all, as he's fond of reminding us, he's the boss."


End file.
